


and it was me and you (this could last forever)

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets, part ii. [39]
Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode Related, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Insecure Andrew, Insecurity, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 13:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: “Did you find any truffle flavored ones?” Andrew asks, looking appraisingly at the piece of candy corn caught between his thumb and forefinger. “Or gold coated? Can we do a whole episode on these?”“Maybe in a few seasons. When we run out of other ideas.” Andrew makes a sound thatmightbe a laugh before he casually tosses the piece of candy into his mouth. Steven hasn’t tried any of the flavors and doesn’t have any particular interest in doing so, but he’s prepared for Andrew to either be very into it or find it absolutely disgusting.What heisn’tprepared for is the sound that comes out of Andrew’s mouth.(or, the one with all the tongue pops.)





	and it was me and you (this could last forever)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for the prompt: _Are you still taking prompts? If so, can you write something about Standrew and the tongue pops?_ this really wasn't supposed to fucking take so long or be this damn long but alas. here we are! takes place from the beginning of s1 right up to s4.
> 
> title from [MFEO: Part 1 - Made for Each Other](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgIAZimTNzE) by Jack's Mannequin (every song on that album is a Standrew song tbh).

Steven is already halfway to Andrew’s desk, a heavy paper bag from a gourmet candy store near Pershing Square dangling from his fingertips, before he starts to think that this _might_ be a bad idea.

The thing is, while him and Andrew aren’t exactly strangers, he wouldn’t go so far as to say that they’re friends. Colleagues, yes. Acquaintances maybe, but even that might be pushing it a bit.

(Of course, there’s also the slight _thing_ that he has for Andrew, the _thing_ that relates to how his arms fill out his shirts and how his rarely seen smile wholly illuminates his face, but, so far as he knows, Andrew is unaware of that thing, and Steven doesn’t plan on telling him about it anytime soon. 

Or ever, ideally.)

But now that they’re officially going to be co-hosts, thanks to the helping hands of fate (and a suggestion from Adam), it had seemed imperative to Steven that, after filming their first episode together, he should get Andrew something to show his gratitude, something that said _thank you for agreeing to this and saving my show_. However, now that the present is actually in his hands, the problem is that Steven doesn’t actually know how Andrew feels about spontaneous gifts, particularly ones that are presented in public (although most of the other people who work in this pod are gone for lunch, so at least there’s that). Truthfully, he doesn’t know how Andrew feels about a _lot_ of things, doesn’t even really know his favorite foods (which, considering the whole premise of Worth It, is a little bit _yikes_ ).

So even though he spent twenty minutes driving around the block looking for a parking spot, another thirty minutes trying to narrow down the perfect gift and a frankly absurd amount of money, the whole thing is _definitely_ starting to seem like a bad idea. 

However, before he can back out and go hide the present in one of his desk drawers (it might still be salvageable as an end of season gift), Andrew glances up at him, and Steven freezes with one foot half-raised, stuck in an awkward half-pivot position.

“What’s in the bag?” he asks, pulling his headphones off and draping them around his neck.

Technically, Steven could still get out of this, could say that the bag is nothing and he was just coming over to talk about the next episode. However, his intuition tells him that, somehow, Andrew will know that he’s lying, which is bound to lead to an awkward dynamic that will bleed through into their next video, and Steven didn’t lose one co-host only for things to get immediately weird with the next.

So he sets the bag down on the corner of Andrew’s desk (a little too hard, based on the sharp clink of porcelain that comes from inside).

“It’s a present!” he answers, and his voice seems too loud in the unusually quiet space. “Like an unofficial ‘welcome to the Worth It family’ kind of present.”

“A present,” Andrew says suspiciously as he hooks his fingers into the bag’s handles and tugs it closer. The top is taped shut, and as he picks it open, loose strands of clear tape sticking to his thumbnail, he continues, “This better not be a prank.”

“When have prank videos ever been my thing?” Steven asks, more than a little bewildered that Andrew’s mind would even go in that direction. After a moment, Andrew shrugs minutely.

“Never, I guess.” When he finally finishes picking at the tape and reaches into the bag, Steven’s anxiety shoots through the roof. His stomach is viciously churning, and his brain is filled with the thought that he should snatch the bag and run before it’s too late. 

Before he can really debate the pros and cons of that particular decision, Andrew pulls four packages of candy corn out of the bag, followed by the small porcelain dish, which Steven is relieved to see is undamaged. Andrew cradles it in his palms for a few moments, turns it this way and that, expression impossible to decipher, before he carefully sets it down and turns to the candy.

“Gourmet candy corn,” he says with a slight uptick to the corner of his mouth, the precursor to a genuine smile. At the sight of it, Steven’s anxiety is replaced by something almost akin to triumph. “I didn’t know this existed.”

“Those aren’t even the weirdest flavors they had.” Steven had done a quick Google search before he actually went shopping, so he’d had some preparation for when he’d actually walked into the store, but he’d still been overwhelmed by the truly bizarre array of candy corn flavors that had filled an entire shelf. In the end, he’d gone with four of the more normal flavors: s’mores, pumpkin pie, toffee, and caramel apple. After a moment of careful consideration, Andrew grabs the s’mores package, slowly tears it open and fishes a single piece out.

“Did you find any truffle flavored ones?” he asks, looking appraisingly at the piece of candy caught between his thumb and forefinger. “Or gold coated? Can we do a whole episode on these?”

“Maybe in a few seasons. When we run out of other ideas.” Andrew makes a sound that _might_ be a laugh before he casually tosses the piece of candy into his mouth. Steven hasn’t tried any of the flavors and doesn’t have any particular interest in doing so, but he’s prepared for Andrew to either be very into it or find it absolutely disgusting.

What he _isn’t_ prepared for is the sound that comes out of Andrew’s mouth.

It’s a surprisingly loud popping sound, a little softer and rounder than a click. It’s not a sound Steven’s ever heard anyone make, and he has no idea what it’s supposed to mean, if it signifies a good or bad reaction, if what he _actually_ heard was a poorly disguised gag.

Naturally, his curiosity is piqued.

“What was _that?_ ” he asks with a surprised laugh.

Immediately, Andrew’s face goes totally and utterly blank.

“Nothing,” he mutters. After pushing the bag of s’mores candy corn over so that a few loose pieces spill out onto his desk (and Steven almost groans in protest, because that’s _exactly_ why he got Andrew the bowl as well), he wraps his fingers around his headphones. “I have to get back to work. Thanks for the candy.”

Before Steven can say so much as _you’re welcome_ , Andrew jams his headphones back on, and if that isn’t a sign that the conversation is totally over, Steven doesn’t know what is.

As he trudges back across the office to his own desk, stomach roiling with anxiety, two thoughts fight for space inside his mind.

The first is that, the next time he gets the idea to give someone a surprise present, he’s going to run it past Adam first or sit on it for a few days, because unless he read the situation totally wrong, he might have to find _another_ new co-host.

The second is that, while he’s definitely curious about the noise Andrew made, if he ever hears it again, he’s going to keep his mouth shut about it.

&.

Thankfully, despite the certainty that grows with each subsequent day that passes, he doesn’t have to find a new co-host. 

After three days of doing his best to avoid interacting with Andrew in any way, Andrew shows up at his desk and sits on the edge of it, which makes it more than a little difficult for Steven to ignore his presence. That being said, he doesn’t have it in him to look Andrew square in the face yet, so he settles for fixing his eyes on where the sleeve of Andrew’s t-shirt bisects his arm.

It’s not exactly a great decision, because his face flushes with unwelcome heat, but he can only hope that if Andrew notices, he blames it on something else. 

“Are we still doing this whole thing?” Andrew asks with a frown. “Or did you find someone else?”

Steven shakes his head rapidly, tongue nearly tripping on the words spilling from his mouth as a fresh wave of anxiety and guilt hits him.

“No! I mean, yeah! Of course we’re still doing this. If you want to. Do you?” 

Andrew nods. “What are we doing next?” 

“I was thinking steak.” Steven grabs his laptop and slides over a few inches so that Andrew can better see the screen. Bringing up his planning documents, he continues, “If that’s cool with you.”

Andrew’s face lights up, and Steven suddenly understands why moths are so attracted to bright lamps and flames.

He only allows the thought to linger for a moment before he clears it away with a firm shake of his head and goes back to the planning documents.

They don’t talk about what happened with the candy corn, about the sound and the way Andrew utterly shut down when Steven asked about it, but by the time Andrew strolls back off to his own desk, they have some semblance of a game plan for the next episode and frankly, for the time being at least, Steven thinks that’s more important.

&.

As time goes by and they finish season one, begin production of season two and somehow become actual friends along the way, Steven hears the sound often enough to get some idea of what it actually means.

It’s definitely not a thinly disguised gag or retch. When it slips out during filming, it’s usually after Andrew has bitten into something that he particularly likes-

(and while the three of them never discuss it, all of those moments are edited out during post)

-but it’s not exclusively contained to food. One day, a few days after they start filming for season two, they stop by Annie’s house to hang out for a few hours. Mere seconds after walking through the door, Andrew ends up with Annie’s cat bundled up in his arms, both of them looking as pleased as can be, and as Steven follows Annie and Adam into the kitchen to grab some drinks, he catches the sound. When he glances back over his shoulder Andrew is simply scratching the cat between the shoulders, but Steven knows what he heard. 

So the sound seems to be related more to general happiness than culinary satisfaction. But even though he’s fairly sure that he’s identified the cause of the sound, Steven still has no idea why Andrew shuts down when it happens, like he’s _ashamed_ of it.

On more than one occasion, he almost tells Andrew that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to hide it from them, but he always stops himself before the words can fall from his mouth. Bringing it up, even if it’s in a positive light, is bound to make Andrew even more uncomfortable, which is the exact _opposite_ of what Steven wants to accomplish.

For the first time in his life, he thinks that he truly understands what it means to be stuck between a rock and a hard place.

&.

The next time Steven hears the sound when it’s just the two of them, it’s after the cocktail episode.

Technically, they aren’t alone, because Matt is in the driver’s seat, but he has a podcast playing and seems wholly focused on listening along. Steven could have moved up to the passenger seat when they dropped Adam off, could have at least moved to the other side of the backseat, but that would have required him to move away from the warmth of Andrew’s side and that, frankly, is the last thing he wants to do at the moment.

He isn’t exactly drunk, but his head is pleasantly fuzzy on the inside and difficult to hold up, which is how he ended up leaning it against Andrew’s shoulder. He’s not really sure how one of Andrew’s arms ended up wedged between his lower back and the seat, but he has no intentions of complaining about it. He’s happy just to reach down for the bag of candy in his lap, which they’d grabbed from a convenience store earlier in the day. It’s nothing special, cheap and obscenely sugary and vaguely peach flavored, and it feels almost crass to be eating it so soon after the crazy expensive scotch and the fancy snacks at the last location, but it’s hitting the spot all the same. 

Andrew hasn’t said a word since they dropped Adam off, but if there’s one thing Steven has learned about Andrew, it’s that he has a sweet tooth, so after popping a piece into his own mouth, he roots around for another, tilts his head up so he can sort of see what he’s doing, and holds it up to Andrew’s mouth. Andrew glances away from the rain-streaked window and pauses for a moment before he sinks his teeth into the edge of the candy and pulls it into his mouth. His lips brush against Steven’s fingertips, and a light shudder courses through Steven’s body, one that he hopes Andrew doesn’t notice. 

Before he can worry too much about that, Andrew makes the sound again.

Immediately, his arm goes as rigid as a tree branch against the base of Steven’s spine, and his hand stops gently moving back and forth against Steven’s waist (which is a movement Steven didn’t even notice until it suddenly ended). Steven doesn’t want to draw any attention to it but, on the flip side, he wants Andrew to know that it’s okay, that he _likes_ the sound, that it’s just one of many things about Andrew that make him smile. Unfortunately, with all the fuzz filling his head like so much cotton, finding the words to express all of that seems like an utterly insurmountable task so instead, he drops his cheek to Andrew’s chest, curls his fingers into the soft hem of Andrew’s shirt, and says words that he _can_ find.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, meaning it with everything he has. “Today was amazing.”

Andrew stays stiff for a few blessedly short moments before, with an abrupt exhalation, his whole body goes lax, and he slumps back into the seat. His fingertips graze against Steven’s hip as his arm relaxes, and he turns his head and presses his face into Steven’s hair.

“You’re welcome,” Andrew mumbles. The words brush against the top of Steven’s head like a gentle kiss, and another shudder courses from the crown of Steven’s head all the way down to his toes.

They stay like that for the rest of the ride. 

&.

After that, Andrew touches him a lot more.

His fingers trace over Steven’s knee when they’re sitting beside each other during meetings or while they’re editing, he bumps their arms together when he’s made a particularly groan worthy pun, and he makes a habit out of slinging his arm around Steven’s shoulders when they’re sitting in a booth together, whether they’re filming or out with friends. While Steven tries to tell himself that it doesn’t mean what he wants it to mean, that he shouldn’t reciprocate too heavily because that’s a road liable to end in disappointment, he does it anyway. He leans his head on Andrew’s shoulder when they’re waiting for Adam to finish setting up a shot, occasionally musses up Andrew’s hair just to be a pain, fiddles with the sleeves of Andrew’s shirts or his watchband when he’s bored.

In addition to the sudden increase in their physical contact, there’s also a noticeable increase in how often Steven hears the tongue pop.

They still edit it out of the episodes when it happens during filming, but outside of that, while Andrew still flushes when it slips out, he no longer freezes. Instead, after a momentary pause, he continues with what he was doing, whether that was working on something on his laptop or whether it was letting Steven absently run his fingers through his hair while they watch a movie in their hotel room.

But even though Andrew seems to be more comfortable with it, Steven still doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to upset the balance they’ve found with each other, doesn’t want to ruin things just as they’re starting to get good.

Mainly, he just doesn’t want to make Andrew unhappy.

&.

He never asks, but in Australia, Andrew tells him.

They’re both lying on Andrew’s bed, tipsy on one hundred year old wine (which Steven thinks is possibly the most decadent thing he’s ever consumed, gold and truffles and caviar be damned). They’re on top of the covers, and while Andrew’s head is resting on the pillows, Steven’s is down towards the end of the bed, and his feet are brushing up against the headboard. One of Andrew’s hands is resting on Steven’s ankle, covering the strip of skin between the hem of his jeans and the top of his sock. Every so often, his thumb drags back and forth along Steven’s skin, and every time it happens, Steven has to bite back a soft sigh.

The sun went down an hour or so ago, and there’s only the soft, dim glow from the lamp between the beds illuminating the room. The window is open, and the sheer curtains are gently swaying in the breeze coming off the sea. Adam is on the balcony of the room adjoining theirs, and Steven can hear him quietly talking to someone, probably Annie, on the phone; the individual words are lost underneath the wind and the call of seabirds, but the steady murmur of his voice is nothing less than utterly soothing. 

Steven thinks that, if he could save one moment in his life to return to whenever he needs a moment of peace and quiet, he would choose this one.

He’s on the verge of drifting off to sleep when Andrew clears his throat and lightly squeezes his ankle.

“The sound,” he begins. His fingers carefully slide underneath the hem of Steven’s jeans and skirt along his shin, and this time, Steven can’t bite back his sigh, even as he waits patiently for Andrew to keep talking. After a moment, Andrew pops his tongue off the roof of his mouth, and Steven automatically smiles. “It’s something my mom does when she’s really happy. She’s done it for as long as I can remember.” 

“That’s really sweet,” Steven says. He hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting Andrew’s parents in person yet, but he’s talked to them over FaceTime in the past, and both of them seem like absolutely lovely people. 

“Yeah. It’s one of my favorite things about her, actually.” He goes quiet again, and while Steven doesn’t know if there’s more information coming or if that’s the end of the story, he doesn’t want to push. Dropping one hand to Andrew’s leg, he busies himself with tracing his fingers along the curve of Andrew’s knee, along the seam traveling down the inside of his calf, and then back again. Eventually, Andrew continues, “I used to do it all the time, when I was younger. But people always commented on it. Some of them made fun of me for it. So I tried to stop doing it. It was easier than explaining or fighting back.”

Maybe it’s the wine floating around his brain, but a sudden flush of something like _anger_ floods through Steven. He wants to find every person that ever made Andrew uncomfortable and make them apologize.

After a moment, he realizes that _he’s_ one of those people. 

Reluctantly, he moves his hand away from Andrew’s leg and scrambles to flip himself around. He miscalculates slightly and ends up flopping down with his face mere inches away from Andrew’s, so close that their legs are touching, but he doesn’t bother to move away. 

“I’m sorry that I made you feel bad about it,” he starts. “I’m sorry _anyone_ ever made you feel bad about it. You don’t have to hide it, not around me and not around Adam.” He knows that he hasn’t _actually_ said that much, but it still feels like he’s been talking for too long, so he finishes with, “I love hearing it. Really.” 

The silence between them seems to drag on for an eternity. Andrew barely even blinks; he just stares at Steven with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. Every second that ticks by without him saying _something_ makes Steven antsy, makes him want to fill the silence somehow, but he tamps that urge down. This is Andrew’s moment; he isn’t going to walk all over it just because he’s impatient.

Eventually, Andrew clears his throat again.

“Thank you, Steven,” he says, voice quiet and raspy, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. His hand rises and hovers in mid-air for a moment before it carefully descends and comes to rest on the side of Steven’s face. In response, Steven shuffles forward an inch or so, until he’s close enough to see the lighter flecks in Andrew’s eyes.

There’s a part of him that thinks, maybe, he should stop things before they go any further. Maybe he shouldn’t close the gap between them. Maybe he should get up and move to his own bed. Maybe, even though he’s about ninety-eight percent sure that Andrew wants this as much as he is, he’s deluding himself. 

In the end, after giving it some thought, he decides that he’s willing to take that chance.

The first brush of their mouths together is more gentle than the breath that follows it. Steven keeps his eyes open and trained on Andrew’s face the entire time, so that he can back away at the first sign of any potential trouble.

That sign never comes.

Instead, Andrew moves forward, until the space between them is non-existent, wraps his arm around Steven’s back and curls his fingers tightly into the loose fabric of his shirt. Their noses bump together, and when Andrew speaks, voice even lower than usual, like he’s trying to eliminate any chance of it traveling beyond their own little bubble, his words brush against Steven’s mouth.

“Can we do that again?”

Steven’s pretty sure that, if he tries to answer that verbally, a veritable barrage is going to spill out of his mouth, an embarrassing jumble of _yes_ and _please_ and _wanted this for so long_ , so he nods instead, curls his fingers into the front of Andrew’s shirt and meets him in the middle.

This time, the kiss is considerably firmer than a breath.

Steven quickly loses himself in the feeling of Andrew’s mouth pressing against his own, in the feeling of his tongue tracing Steven’s bottom lip and his fingers tightening in the back of his shirt. They kiss until he can’t breathe, but he only pauses long enough to pull in a heaving gulp of air before he swoops back in and slots one of his legs between both of Andrew’s.

Eventually, after he’s lost count of how many quick breaks they take for breath, he needs a more substantial pause. Reluctantly, heart thudding against his ribs, lungs aching in the most pleasant way he’s ever experienced, he backs away a few inches. For a second, Andrew chases after him, instinctively it seems, before he comes to his senses and slowly flicks his eyes open. He looks _wrecked_ ; his pupils have nearly overtaken his irises, his hair has been tugged into an unruly mess, and his mouth is glistening and swollen.

Steven can’t help but feel a twinge of pride, deep down in his chest, at the thought that _he_ did that all to Andrew.

“Steven,” Andrew says, slipping his hand underneath Steven’s shirt and splaying his fingers wide at the base of Steven’s spine. “Was that okay?”

Steven’s fairly certain that _okay_ doesn’t come anywhere close to describing what just happened. Frankly, he’s not sure if there are enough words in any language in the world to accurately describe the airy feeling in his chest and head, to describe the sheer level of utter joy permeating every inch of his body.

So he doesn’t bother trying to describe it.

Instead, he pops his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

It doesn’t sound exactly like when Andrew does it; it’s more muted, less crisp, but Andrew’s cheeks immediately flush the loveliest shade of pink, and a grin that’s nothing less than dazzling, brighter than all the neon in the world, spreads across his face. After a moment, Andrew ducks down and presses his forehead against Steven’s sternum. When he mirrors the sound, it’s muffled against Steven’s chest, but Steven hears it all the same, and more joy flows through his body like sap in a tree. 

Eventually, that’s how he falls asleep; pressed against Andrew in more spots than he can count, still on top of the covers, with one arm tucked underneath Andrew’s head and the other draped around his waist, happier than he can ever remember feeling.

And even though he wakes up just after sunrise with horrible morning breath and an arm so asleep that it’s totally numb, he regrets nothing.

&.

The next time the sound slips out while they’re filming, Andrew doesn’t freeze. He just goes back in for another bite.

When they’re editing the raw footage afterwards, Adam pauses right after that moment. Caught in mid-tongue pop with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open, Andrew looks a little bit ridiculous. Steven, on the other hand, is a little staggered to see the look on his own face; he’s pretty sure he’s never seen _anyone_ so vividly embody the term ‘ _heart eyes_ ’, and even though he’s not ashamed of it in the least, he still flushes.

“Do you want to cut that out?” Adam asks, turning in his chair to face Andrew, who has been absently drumming his fingers against Steven’s knee since they started going through the footage. Steven’s pretty sure that he knows what Andrew’s answer is going to be; regardless of the fact that Andrew’s stopped trying to hide the sound around him, having it broadcast to all of their viewers is another thing entirely.

Then again, Andrew has always been full of surprises.

“No,” he answers. Settling back in his chair, he tilts back a little and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to the corner of Steven’s mouth, and even though his next words are directed towards Adam, his eyes don’t leave Steven’s face. “It’s okay.”

Steven grins.

Yeah. It’s _definitely_ okay.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~how many more times can I write these two having their first kiss? probably a dozen more. at least.~~
> 
>  
> 
> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
